


Doing My Duty

by Ayngelcat



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Gen, unwelcome 'law enforcement'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:45:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngelcat/pseuds/Ayngelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is actually a  tf_speedwriting  prompt which took me  longer than 2 hours. The prompt was "Reporting a crime (or trying to)"</p><p>Recently arrived on Earth, the Protectobots sometimes have trouble with their new roles and responsibilities. An exasperated Prowl deals with a Streetwise who takes his 'duties' all too seriously.</p><p>*Warnings* only for unknown chained up humans! Who get released. No other content warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing My Duty

Prowl did not usually visit the small town to which the Protectobots had been assigned. After the unscheduled ‘partying’ in the town square and the spraying of ‘Megatron Sucks’ on the side of the Town Hall - courtesy of a truly ‘out of it’ Blades - he considered this somewhat necessary, however, in the interests of Autobot-human relations.

There were, after all, the other incidents. And among them, Prowl was sure the townsfolk had not forgotten Streetwise’ attempts at ‘law enforcement.’

As he tramped along, Prowl sighed. Blades and Streetwise were testament to what happened when young Autobots were designated with powers they were nowhere near ready to handle. Blades was deliberately belligerent. Streetwise was not – and took his ‘police duties’ very seriously.  But the fact remained that his ‘assistance’ was anything but helpful.

Prowl ran through the list. Twenty two episodes of calling out human police, ‘suspicious’  activities which had turned out not to be. Twenty one incidents of unnecessary apprehension and questioning by Streetwise himself; ten of unauthorized arrest. Over thirty incidents of following drivers, tailgating, pulling them over, transforming and then interrogating them. And the human police were so sensitive about that, about themselves being portrayed in a bad light. Even when laws had been broken.

There was the rest - not least, the positioning of unauthorized surveillance cameras in ‘strategic’ locations which were actually illegal. Then Streetwise’ best known feat had been to set up a road block to ‘apprehend’ speeding drivers. Considerable vehicle damage had resulted, culminating in an angry call to Autobot headquarters from the Sheriff. Streetwise had chased three drivers at high speed. Twice this had resulted in accidents; one serious and needing First Aid’s urgent attention.

Prowl recalled how the Sherriff had tried hard to smile, to say how much he appreciated the ‘assistance’ of the Protectobots, how in Streetwise’ case he ‘could see how hard the young police car was trying.’ He‘d been careful to cite the half dozen or so occasions when Streetwise _had,_ in fact, aided their cause. Unfortunately, he’d said, they were so outweighed by the hindering ones that, ‘enough was enough.’  

Hot Spot, highly embarrassed, had apologized profusely for the umpteenth time, and promised to bring Streetwise into line. Jazz had done some fast talking. Streetwise had, he said, taken cues from human TV, and thought his behaviour was appropriate. The Sherriff, nodding disapproval at 'overzealous' TV 'cop' shows, had graciously agreed to give Streetwise another chance. Prowl sincerely hoped that had signaled the end of the debacles.

But as Prowl turned the corner to the main street and drew near the old bank building, his spark sank. In front of the railings, humans were gathering. Prowl had been on Earth long enough to know  from their demeanor and body language that they were far from happy; and although this wouldn’t necessarily – probably didn’t – have anything to do with a certain Protectobot, the Autobot enforcer had an uncanny sense of doom.

Nearby, at the edge of the street, a large, square shaped van was parked. It had writing on the side, but Prowl could not see what it on account of the magni-net that had been flung over the entire vehicle and secured with a large Autobot style combination padlock.

Prowl paused. This did not bode well. He, of course, carried such nets in subspace at all times – but he had never actually used one. Nor was he even aware that anyone but he and Jazz had them. They had been invented for Stunticon apprehension. And that van was no Stunticon.

As he drew closer, Prowl tried to dismiss the now _very bad_ feeling – but it was impossible. And now – _oh no_ \- he could see on the other side of the very obviously _non_ sentient van, a black and white transformer, slightly smaller than himself, tinged with red. 

Arms crossed over his chest, two impressive looking rifles were attached to Streetwise’ arms, barrels protruding. He stood proudly between the humans and the railings, legs apart, stiff like a sentinel of justice. _Just like on human TV,_ Prowl thought, dismayed.

Prowl groaned inwardly. _What has he done this time?_

 ................

The crowd drew back, gaping up at the new arrival. Prowl could now see, only too clearly, what was occupying their attention. Backs to the railings, hands above their heads, two male humans were chained with regulation human police style handcuffs. The men, clad in grey overalls, stared with wide-eyed horror obviously not daring to move. The rest of their kind looked helplessly from them to Prowl, a mixture of outrage and fear and dismay on their pale faces.

Streetwise, clearly, was immensely pleased with himself. He spotted Prowl and his face lit up. He saluted, swaggering a little. The guns gleamed. A ripple went through the humans.

“Sir!” Streetwise said. “I sure appreciate you coming here. Nothing I can’t handle, of course, and the human officers are on their way. I have cautioned those assembled that I will not use my weapons unless I have to. I believe they are aware of my duty - which is only to assist and serve!”

 _Not use his weapons!_ Streetwise shouldn’t even be _wearing_ the things. Didn’t he at least know that unless there were Decepticons present, Autobot weapons were an absolute no-no?  Hadn’t even _that_ sunk in?

Prowl groaned inwardly again. The ‘service’ was evidently about as welcome as an Insecticon in a forest. Yet he must, he reminded himself, at least hear the youngster’s account – even if he dreaded what it would be. And he must not chastise him in public. It was important the Autobots did not lose face, did not appear to lack coordination or respect for each other, in any public situation.

“Your report, Streetwise, if you please!” Prowl said brusquely. The crowd went quiet; though the suppressed indignation didn’t escape Prowl.

“My report, Sir .....” Streetwise drew himself up. He took an intake.

“I was proceeding past the bank at approximately 08.30 hours when I observed this male human …” he indicated to the first chained man, “to be levering open that human automatic credit dispenser over there.” He indicated to the wall beside the bank entrance where Prowl could indeed see such a machine, yawning open and devoid of contents.

“The other criminal ..." he motioned to the other man, "then brought over a box from that van ...." Streetwise indicated to the netted vehicle, "and took it to the machine. When asked what they were doing, they would not answer, and drew weapons. I carried out an examination, and found the box to be full of stolen credits.”

“As you can see, both villains and their contraband have been apprehended and their weapons confiscated,” Streetwise went on. “I look forward to the arrival of human police officers to escort them to prison, where they belong. Sir!” He looked triumphantly at the other Autobot.

The crowd, which had begun to rumble angrily, now found their voice. “They ain’t done nothin’ wrong, mister!” It was a pale haired human female who spoke; and she was quickly followed by others, who seemed infused with sudden courage:

“He ain’t no thief …! “

“No, they were just doin’ their jobs… ain’t you got no brains …?”

“Can’t you see that’s a _security_ van .....these guys were _delivering_ money, not stealing it ….. “

“Bozos… man can't even go about his business....!“

 “Yeah!” yelled a voice from the back. “Did ya see the Town Hall? Dumb robots – ain’t gonna count on YOU to save the Earth!” There was applause, and a clamour of agreement.

 _Oh no._   It was worse even than most of the former incidents. Facing the Mayor and Sherriff again hardly bore thinking about. Yet, the Autobot Enforcer determined to remain professional. “Streetwise,” he said calmly. “You may begin by releasing those humans. I don’t believe their apprehension in such a manner is called for now that I am present.”

“Sir!” Streetwise looked mildly disappointed. But he moved swiftly to comply. The crowd fell silent again.

There came, then, the sound of engines approaching, sirens and a screech of tyres. Prowl looked across to see Bumblebee swing around the corner, followed by a human police car with lights blazing.

Another ripple went through the humans. But Prowl heaved a sigh of relief. There was not a human in the State who did not recognize the yellow Autobot at least; know that he was famous as a ‘human friend’ and for keeping the Decepticons at bay on the other side of the country. In the drivers’ seat was the familiar face of his best friend, Spike. There could not have been a more helpful sight.

Looking back, Prowl saw that the chained humans were free. Their faces were blank, they stood as though dazed, idly rubbing their wrists and arms.

The others seemed confused, they glanced between Prowl and Streetwise with a combination of anger and fear, then turned their attention to the arrivals, running forward and mobbing the policemen as they got out of the vehicle, and Spike as he alighted from Bumblebee.

Prowl sighed. This time there was some really heavy explaining to do. He turned to the Protectobot.

“Streetwise, you will accompany Bumblebee when he is free, and we will talk later,” he said crisply.

“Sir! That will be an honor. You will see to it that those villains are locked up though, won’t ya?”

“They shall be dealt with appropriately.”

Bumblebee had extricated himself. he made his way across. "C'mon, mech ..." he gave Streetwise a playful shove. "Enough heroics for one day ..." he transformed.

As Streetwise and Bee departed, Prowl heard the Protectobot chattering happily about cops and villains, thieves and courts and jail. It would be a very LONG talk, later, Prowl surmised. But he could not think of that now. There was serious damage control to do. With this in mind, the Autobot Enforcer walked solemnly over to where the police and Spike still attempted to deal with a thousand questions at once. Then all eyes were upon him.

Prowl cleared his throat. “For a start, I would like to apologize for this misunderstanding,” he began. “Some of your ways are still strange to our newest arrivals ….”

This road with the Protectobots was going to be a long, hard one at times.


End file.
